


Darkness

by pocketsfullofstones



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Femlock, Gen, Memento-Inspired, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketsfullofstones/pseuds/pocketsfullofstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Femlock Oneshot, but I could be convinced to continue it if people show interest. Sherlock always wakes up in a strange place, though her body knows it well. T for the mentions of the drugs Sherlock has managed to hide from Joan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness

It was the kind of darkness you could only experience after spending all night on your computer. Around six a.m. you finally quit, and try to get a few good minutes of sleep. But for some reason, you can’t manage to fall into that sweet slumber you know you crave. You stare into the darkness and can only come up with geometrical shapes and colours your brain generates—perhaps to keep you from going mad. You look at your window, and just the tiniest hint of light comes from behind the shades. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t know it was there. Or maybe it wasn’t there, and that’s what you expected to see.

That’s what Sherlock Holmes felt now. Even with the room lit up by the bluish dawn, she couldn’t comprehend the things around her. If there wasn’t a sign on the back of the door saying “YOUR ROOM” in big, bold letters, she wouldn’t know where she was. She got up from her unfamiliar bed, and wandered around the room, checking the drawers. Most of them held what you’d expect a drawer to hold: pants, t-shirts, socks and the like. But the last two drawers she checked were not something she’d anticipated.

One contained countless notebooks labelled “EXPERIMENTS”, and the other held writing materials. But under all of those things she found a false bottom to a drawer, and under it was a few small bags of what looked like crystal rocks and...some kind of herb? She sniffed the contents hesitantly—that was definitely cocaine and marijuana. She shivered, and hid it back under the false bottom.

Sherlock wandered to her bathroom, and was shocked to find notes all over it. Scratched into the mirror was “You are Sherlock Holmes”. She knew this—why was it written there? On the side of the mirror was a Polaroid picture of her. In the blank space under the picture, she had written “Your Makeup”. Why did that matter? And why was there only one picture? Was she that lame that she wore the same makeup every day? Or was this just simpler?

She walked back to her door. Several Polaroid pictures told her who to expect outside the door, and who she worked with. She took in a deep breath, and opened the door. There was a woman in the kitchen cooking eggs—Joan Watson. When this “Joan” turned towards her to greet her, she didn’t reply.

“Typical”, Joan said.

Sherlock sat on the sofa—she couldn’t tell which chair was hers—and tried to act casual. Why didn’t this person know about her? Did she not trust her? Or was she ashamed?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Joan slide a plate on the coffee table in front of her. “So, how’d you sleep?”

“Fine”, Sherlock said lamely. She eyed the eggs, but didn’t feel like gobbling them up without a second thought, even though that’s what her stomach was telling her to do. “And you?”

“I slept well.” Joan smiled at Sherlock.

_One obstacle down._


End file.
